


In Treatment - Aftermath

by DamsonDaForge



Series: In Treatment [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, DaForge Strong Friendship, Gen, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Repressed Memories, Strong Male Friendship, Trauma, daforge - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamsonDaForge/pseuds/DamsonDaForge
Summary: Following Geordi's abduction by the Romulans, Data struggles to help his friend come to terms with what happened.  Deanna tries to help them both.Takes place after the episode 'The Mind's Eye'.
Relationships: Data & Geordi La Forge
Series: In Treatment [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870396
Comments: 20
Kudos: 47
Collections: Star Trek Fics





	In Treatment - Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Deals with the aftermath of Geordi's torture at the hands of the Romulans, his subsequent trauma and PTSD.

A troubled Data was sat across from Deanna in her office.

“Geordi has said little to me. He says that he is alright, but I do not believe him.”

It had been almost four days since Data had ordered Worf to take Geordi into custody for the attempt on Governor Vagh’s life. Four days in which the life of one of her closest friends had been turned upside down and the alliance between the Federation and the Klingon Empire brought to the brink. Will and the Captain were in the midst of placating the High Council, Data and Worf were collating and presenting the evidence of the Romulan plot, whilst Deanna and Dr Crusher had had the difficult and delicate task of neutralising the horrendous conditioning that had been inflicted on Geordi’s mind.

“You’re right, Data. He’s trying to protect you and he’s trying to protect himself. If he says it often enough, maybe that will make it true.”

“From the tone of your voice, Counselor, you do not believe his strategy will be successful.”

“No, it won’t be. We have to lead him gently but firmly away from that instinct.”

“Perhaps you can assist me with something? Geordi has two memories of the same time period, held in his mind simultaneously. This is nonsensical to me. How can he know that he was on the Romulan ship, yet remember being on Risa?”

“It’s almost impossible to imagine.” When Deanna felt Geordi’s emotions around that specific question, she felt fear, mistrust, she felt his profound disorientation, his denial, she felt his self-control slip and panic, pure and simple, would fill her senses. “But your inability to comprehend may not be as different to Geordi’s experience as you think.”

“How so, Counselor?”

“When you try to envisage what Geordi is going through, what happens?”

“In my processors?” Data asked, continuing when Deanna nodded her encouragement. “The conflict produces a termination error and the subroutine is shut down.”

“In a lot of ways, that is what is happening in Geordi’s mind. As we slowly try to uncover what happened to him on the Romulan ship, the trauma and the conflict with his memories of Risa become too great and he, in essence, shuts down.” Emotionally, it felt to Deanna like a break, a snap, an overwhelming emotional load that could not be processed. “Again, it’s a protective mechanism which only works as a short term solution. His memory is badly fragmented and he is only getting glimpses of what really happened to him. It’s going to take time.”

“Do you have a timescale?” Data enquired.

“It won’t be something that goes along to a fixed timetable, Data. I have to be led by Geordi and what he is able to tolerate. We still don’t know exactly what they did to him. We may never know, as they left no physical evidence. If you hadn’t traced those E-band transmissions—” Deanna trailed off, a shudder working its way through her.

“Dr Crusher has not yet found anything?”

“I’m afraid not. It does make it more difficult to treat him, not knowing the precise cause. All we can do is treat the effect. But we have made progress, don’t get disheartened, Data.” 

“I am not disheartened. I am strongly motivated to assist Geordi in any way I can.”

“What has he told you?”

“Very little, he appears unwilling or unable to speak on this topic.”

“Data,” said Deanna, “have you ever noticed how your discussions will often be centred on your perception or experience, with Geordi offering insight in general terms, so that he avoids discussing his deeper emotions?”

“I had not…”

“He is very good at turning the conversation to generalities whilst appearing to speak of his own feelings. He’s so good, he’s done it to me a few times.”

“Really, Counselor?”

Deanna nodded.

“I did not realise Geordi did this.” Data had ticked his head and his eyes flickered. “I have not been a good friend to him.”

“Hold on a second, Data—”

“Fewer than 4.78% of our conversations of a non-work nature relate in-depth to Geordi’s immediate feelings or needs…”

“Data—”

“No, Counselor. I understand now why Geordi is reluctant to speak to me about his ordeal. I have been neglectful, self-centred, needy, demanding. I did not realise I had been so… deficient."

“Data, you are none of those things. And even if you were, this isn’t because of how you are. Closing himself off, it’s a way of dealing with the trauma and his overwhelming feelings.”

“Our conversational disparity goes back to the beginning of our friendship. Long before Geordi’s abduction.”

“It’s not something that has happened recently, Data. It’s something he’s learned to do over time.”

“In relation to traumas which pre-date this incident?”

“Almost everyone has these things in their past.”

Data reflected for a moment. “I have discussed with Geordi his experience after he was held aboard the Pakled vessel.”

Deanna nodded in recognition as it was something that she had discussed with Geordi on a few occasions.

Data continued. “He did not bring up the subject, I prompted it. My primary concern was my own curiosity, not Geordi or his wellbeing. I mined his trauma for insight and then moved on. I did not speak with him again on the subject, as his answers were satisfactory. That is not the action of a good friend.”

“Perhaps you could have followed that up, but I know that Geordi wouldn't see it in those harsh terms.”

“That may be true, Counselor, but now that Geordi needs me, I find I do not know how to help him, since it is clear I have not helped him in the past.”

“You _are_ helping him, just by being there. Letting him know he is not alone, that he won’t have to face this alone is very important. He is very unsure of himself at the moment, so your stability and support are going to be crucial in the coming weeks and months. He trusts you more than anyone. Let him lean on you. If he needs a distraction, be a distraction. If you don’t know what to say to him, it is okay just to listen, because when he’s ready, I know that he will turn to you.”

Deanna moved and sat down next to Data. She folded her hand into his.

“I know you know how. Be his friend, Data.”

*~*~*~*

_There were hands on his face, on his forehead, large and rough, forcing his head back, strapping him down._

Geordi awoke with a jolt and scrambled out of bed, a desperate need to get away consuming him. Panic flooded his body. His heart was throwing itself against his ribcage, as if it needed to flee, as if it needed to escape. 

He couldn’t catch his breath. His throat felt constricted and his lungs clamoured for air. A wrenching pain twisted into his chest and he stumbled forward, groping for the bedside table and the comm pad.

“Sickbay,” Geordi gasped, “I can’t breathe. _I can’t_ _breathe_.”

*~*~*~*

“Emergency medical override, recognise Crusher gamma six five.”

The doors to Geordi’s quarters opened and Beverly and Nurse Ogawa swept in. He was collapsed in the corner of his bedroom, VISOR off, struggling to breathe.

“Geordi, it’s Beverly,” she said, scanning him with the peripheral from her tricorder. “He’s hyperventilating. His pCO2 is 29mmHg and he’s in respiratory alkalosis. Prep a carbon dioxide infusion at 40%,” she ordered Alyssa. “Try and slow your breathing, Geordi. I know it’s hard, but you need to take slow, deep breaths, okay? A hypospray now.”

Beverly pressed it into his neck and administered the drug.

“You should start to feel it soon. Can you try to take a slow, deep breath?”

He made a better attempt and the halting, jerking movement of his chest began to ease. Within a few minutes he was breathing more normally and his sats had stabilised.

He was still on the floor in the corner of his room so Beverly helped him to his feet and led him over to the bed. He felt for the edge and sat down, his head in his hands, still shaking a little.

“What the hell was that?” he said.

Beverly sat down next to him. “It was a panic attack.”

“I thought I was dying. I couldn’t breathe.”

“They’re incredibly distressing. Difficulty breathing, chest pain, dizziness. Your body needs to hold onto a certain amount of carbon dioxide, but during a panic attack, hyperventilation gets rid of too much and that messes with your body chemistry.”

“Like the mix being off with the antimatter flow,” Geordi said.

Beverly smiled. “If you say so.”

He smiled back, weakly, distress still etched onto his face. “I’m sorry I dragged you up here for nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Beverly said, possibly more sternly than she had intended.

She was still enraged about what had happened to him. She had found nothing during her numerous examinations, except that slight vascular dilation, which in and of itself was meaningless. However they had managed to do this to him, it was as sly as it was cruel, as shrewd as it was despicable.

“Something triggered this,” she said. “Do you know what it was?”

Geordi shrugged. “It… I was… It was a dream.”

Before Beverly could dig any deeper, the door chimed. Geordi lifted his head and gave a shaking sigh.

“Who is it?” he asked, his gaze moving over the floor.

“It’s Deanna,” came the reply.

“Come in,” he said, sounding exhausted.

Dr Crusher looked around and saw Deanna enter in her nightclothes and bundled into a dressing gown. Beverly gave her a tight, drawn smile, relieved that she had arrived to help shoulder the burden of Geordi’s deep distress.

“Hello, Geordi,” said Troi, moving closer to the bedroom.

“Did I wake you?” Geordi said, sounding stricken.

“It’s fine, honestly.”

“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

Beverly and Alyssa had packed up and headed off, leaving Deanna sat next to Geordi on the edge of his bed. His sincere belief that he might be dying had torn Deanna from her sleep and sent her flying towards Geordi’s quarters.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Deanna said. “I don’t mind staying until you’re asleep.”

The sedative that Beverly had given him would start to take effect soon. Still, he hesitated. The very last thing he wanted was to be was anymore of a burden than he already felt that he was. 

“Don’t feel bad,” she said, answering those feelings. “You need to let people help you. You’re always there for them. Let them be there for you now you need them.”

She felt his emotions surge and he was only able to nod to her.

“Now go to bed,” Deanna said, with her best mothering tone. “I’ll get myself a hot chocolate, catch up on some reports and then once you’re asleep, I’ll leave you in peace. Deal?”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.

“Good,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze before standing.

As she watched him settle into bed, her heart ached for him. He had a long, hard, brutal road ahead of him, but at least he wouldn’t have to walk it alone.

“Counselor?” a soft voice said, filtering into her sleep-filled head. “It’s 0730 hours.”

Deanna opened her eyes and saw that it was Geordi standing over her, holding out a cup of coffee.

“Oh,” she mumbled, sitting up on Geordi’s couch. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“I would say so, yeah.”

She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and then gratefully took the coffee.

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I knew you were going to sleep on the sofa all night,” Geordi said, a troubled look mirroring the discomfort she felt from him.

“I wasn’t going to, but I wanted to make sure that you were alright. Then it didn’t feel right leaving you alone.”

“Is that a special service?” he said with a wry, bitter smile. “For your patients who are losing their minds?”

“You’re not losing your mind, Geordi. Sit down.”

He took a seat next to her on the sofa, the emotions she felt from him were unprocessed and complex.

“You’re not losing your mind,” she repeated. “You’re in the early stages, the very early stages, of recovering repressed memories.”

“Knowing they did something to me, not knowing what… I remember the sun and the water, I remember her laugh and her kiss.” Geordi turned away and shook his head. “But I was never there.”

“No,” Deanna said gently.

“I never made it to Risa.”

Words he knew were true but felt were false. Deanna had shown him Data’s analysis of the shuttle and its mission logs during that first difficult session and she had felt his blood run cold. His mind and body recoiling in concert as the proof of his abduction was laid out before him.

“Can we talk a little bit about what happened last night? Beverly said it was a panic attack that was triggered by a dream?”

“Yeah,” was all he said in reply.

“Can you tell me what the dream was about?”

He didn’t want to say. Deanna could feel the denial and his desperate need to turn away from this intrusion into his memories of Risa. 

“Take your time,” she said into the silence. “It’s okay.”

“It wasn’t like a normal dream,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “Nothing happened... it… was more like a sensation.”

“Of what?”

“Of a hand. A hand on my forehead.”

“Is that all that there is, the sensation of a hand on your forehead?”

The moment Geordi went near that thought, she felt the stone cold dread that had been lurking on the periphery slam front and centre.

“There’s something more?” she said.

“It’s… pushing my head back, strapping it down. I—” He broke of, not able to continue.

“What is it?”

Deanna suspected she knew all too well. She felt trapped and panicked and she felt an overwhelmingly desperate need to flee.

“I can’t move… I… I can’t move.”

“This was what you dreamed about, last night?”

Geordi nodded.

“When you think about it, does it feel like something that happened or does it feel like it was only a dream?”

He was struggling to answer. He was having to dig very deep to try to find his response.

“It feels like both,” he said after an age and Deanna felt a chasm open up beneath him.

The conflict between the two sets of memories was devastating. The contrast between the sun-drenched heat of Risa and the ice-cold dread of his abduction had set up a quite horrifying dissonance within his mind.

He would need careful, methodical therapy to bring him to a point where he could comprehend what had been done to him. Only then would he be able to integrate those traumatic hours and days into his memory and thereby find some measure of peace.

*~*~*~*

“You have avoided the weekly poker game three weeks in a row now, Geordi.”

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that Data was chiding him.

“I haven’t really felt like it. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologise, it was merely an observation.”

Data was stood with all of his languid poise in the middle of Geordi’s quarters, while Geordi sat at the table, the novel he’d been trying and failing to read discarded next to his half-eaten supper.

“The a cappella choir are performing in Ten Forward this evening. Would you care to join me?”

The thought of all those people, everyone knowing what he had done and what had been done to him filled Geordi with dread.

“I’m not really in the mood.”

“Would a visit to the Holodeck be preferable? I have booked a two hour slot which commences at 1930 hours.”

Geordi took in this latest offer and sighed. Someone had put Data up to this, he was sure. He didn’t want to call his friend on it though, it wasn’t Data’s fault.

“Sorry, Data. Like I said, I’m not really in the mood for going out. Someone else will go with you, if you ask them.”

On that response, Data floundered for a moment and then recovered. “I do not wish to go with anyone else. I wish to go with you.”

 _Smooth_ , thought Geordi with weary affection, _real smooth, Data._

He wasn’t going to get rid of him so easily, he could see that now.

“Come and sit down,” he said to his friend and Data purposefully strode forward and sat stiffly in the chair next to Geordi, expectation on his face.

“Yes, Geordi?” Data prompted.

“I don’t want to go out, but—” Geordi took a deep breath. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out here.”

“You have not left your quarters for any other reason than to visit Sickbay or Counselor Troi’s office in four days, thirteen hours and twenty six minutes.”

The only way Data could know that was by having trailed the signal from his combadge around the ship. A flash of genuine irritation cut through Geordi’s malaise.

“Have you been checking up on me?”

“Yes,” said Data, simply.

Damn it, Data was such an ingénue. It was impossible to be mad at him for more than a second or two, especially when those remarkable eyes were reflecting nothing but compassion and concern back at Geordi.

He exhaled, long and loud, knowing some of the anger that he felt was at his own cowardice. He could hardly bare to look at himself in the mirror, because he wasn’t sure who it was looking back at him. He knew that the rest of the ship would be eyeing him with just as much mistrust, if not more, given what he had done. Given that he had nearly killed in cold blood.

“I tried to kill Governor Vagh,” said Geordi quietly.

“Yes,” said Data, just as simply as before.

It still didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like it was something that had happened. Yet the internal sensors had detected and recorded a 2.54 second phaser blast in Cargo Bay Four, with an energy discharge of 4.9 mega joules: a level 7 kill setting. The massive scorch mark on the ceiling was a bit of a giveaway too.

“I never thanked you,” said Geordi.

“For what?”

“For stopping me.”

“It was Captain Picard who deflected the phaser blast and Lieutenant Worf who took you into custody.”

“They wouldn’t have known to do that without you. I would have killed him.” Geordi nodded to himself, still struggling to comprehend what he had almost done. “I would have. And probably one second later, his bodyguards would have killed me.”

He watched Data accept his premise and nod. “That would have been a likely outcome. I am grateful I was able to avert your actions, the likely Klingon response and any resulting damage to the alliance.”

“So I want to thank you,” said Geordi, “for putting it all together, because I don’t know that I’d still be here if you hadn’t.”

“You are welcome. I would like to know, is there anything you would like to ask me, any insight you may feel I can offer?”

“I don’t know, Data.”

He didn’t know anything anymore. That was how it felt, like nothing made any sense, that nothing could be trusted. He was weirdly adrift inside his own head, uncertain and afraid… afraid of his own reflection, afraid to fall asleep, afraid to step outside the door. 

“You have always made yourself available to me in this regard,” Data continued. “I should like to repay some of those debts now, if that would be of assistance to you.”

Geordi frowned at his friend. “They’re not debts, Data. You don’t owe me anything.”

“On the contrary, I owe you a great deal.”

Data’s sincerity was unblinking and quite forceful, and Geordi found himself suddenly too choked up to speak.

“A friendship should not be one-sided,” Data continued. “I have been remiss in this area, which I will endeavour to correct going forward in our relationship.”

Geordi wanted to tell Data he was talking nonsense, but he was pretty sure that if he opened his mouth those surging emotions would get the better of him. He’d avoided breaking down so far, quite harshly corralling the raging fear and the terror of those unknown hours, which he then held, writhing and squirming, down in the darkest recesses of his mind. 

A horrifying sense that a piece of him had been taken and was lost to him forever filled him with a dread that was wordless and overwhelming.

Data was still looking at him with that earnest, open gaze. “Please, Geordi,” he said. “You may ask me anything you wish.”

As Geordi began to forcibly distance himself from the rush of emotion, something which had crossed his mind a few times began to resurface. It was something he had thought to ask Counselor Troi about, but he hadn’t yet felt able to raise what could only be deeply disturbing memories for her.

When he finally felt he could speak without barking out a sob, Geordi said tentatively, “Can I… can I ask you about Ira Graves?”

“You may.”

“What was that like for you?”

That his friend had had his mind subsumed, that he had been taken over and controlled by another had been haunting Geordi’s thoughts. As had happened to Counselor Troi on occasion, their experiences were disturbingly close to what Geordi had gone through. Asking Data would mean he wouldn't have to upset Deanna.

“I recall being in grandpa’s office, on Graves’ World and then awaking on the floor of my quarters with you, kneeling next to me. There is nothing of the intervening hours in my memory.”

“You don’t… feel the missing time?”

“I am aware of the gap. It is as if I was shut down for that period. There is no functional memory of those events. When grandpa downloaded himself into the _Enterprise’s_ memory core, it removed those experiences from my positronic net. There is nothing there.”

“That doesn’t bother you? Not knowing?”

“No, Geordi. A shutdown is a scenario which I was programmed to accommodate and I am able to access the _Enterprise's_ logs of that period. I never asked about your perspective on those events. When did you realise there was… something wrong with me?”

“You were acting pretty strange as soon as you were back on board, but I put it down to you being affected by Graves’ death. He was a piece of your history and I’d seen how important that was to you, piecing that together, only to then have him pass away in your arms. It wasn’t until Deanna and the Captain put two and two together...”

Data inclined his head. “And by then he had made his way into Main Engineering?”

Geordi nodded. “Captain Picard told me what had happened and I tried to talk him down.”

“You attempted to persuade grandpa down from the upper gantry of the warp core?”

“Yeah.”

“And he struck you.”

Moving with the speed, precision and force of an android body he was not used to, Ira Graves had nearly taken Geordi’s head off, and that of Ensign Chan.

“I don’t think he liked being told what to do.”

“He was a headstrong individual,” Data said. “I am sorry that he injured you.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” agreed Data, “as the attempt on Governor Vagh’s life was not yours.”

Geordi looked up, desperately needing to believe what his friend was saying. 

“People do not blame you,” Data said, “as you did not blame me. If I could characterise the mood on the ship, it is one of concern for your well-being. There is anger, but this is directed towards the Romulans and Ambassador Kell, not towards you.”

“They’re not afraid of what I might do?”

“Without the E-band transmissions to trigger your conditioning, there is no further risk to the _Enterprise_.”

“You sound so sure,” Geordi said, wishing he could feel that same certainty, wishing he could feel that there was solid ground beneath his feet, rather than this quicksand that could so easily drag him under.

“I am sure, Geordi. We are now routinely monitoring all E-band signals. The computer will block any and all transmissions that are in range.”

“How can you be so sure? What if there’s something else?”

“When I was called home by my father, I endangered the life of a small child, locked out command functions on the _Enterprise_ and committed mutiny. Those vulnerabilities have been patched now that I am aware of them. The same has now been done for your VISOR. You will not be compromised again via that same method.” Data fixed Geordi with a steadfast gaze. “I can assure you of that.”

He wanted to believe Data, with all of his heart. It horrified him, that the thing that made his life in Starfleet possible had been used so viciously against him. It had never crossed his mind that he was vulnerable in that way, that his implants could be used to violate him so completely. It made his skin crawl to know he had been turned, to know that he had been taken and used and yet have no recollection of it.

His memories of Risa sometimes felt like they might crack. It was like the world breaking open to reveal a nightmare underneath, visible only through those fissures. Despite knowing the cold, sterile terror of those fragments was reality, his mind still refused to lose its grip on those sun-drenched days. Half a dozen sun-drenched days that he remembered with a clarity that matched the clear grey-blue of her eyes, that matched the clear blue waters he had swum in, that matched the clear blue skies the sun had shone down from. 

It was sickening to know it wasn’t real and sickening to not know what lay beneath. Whatever had been done to him stalked his days and haunted his dreams. Lingering in the shadows, those days remained out of his reach, out of his grasp, bathed in the lie that was the sun and the sand and the sex. His memories would ripple, like the bright sun refracted on the water. The heat would transform into tendrils which would shiver coldly around his thoughts and wrap ice around his heart. A scrap of something solid would turn to instant mist and disperse like smoke, leaving nothing but the sensation, the creeping, dread-filled sensation, that his mind was not his own.

Geordi shuddered and the shakes would not subside. His body shook with an uncontrolled tremor, tears burning his eyes as his throat closed painfully around the hard stone of emotion that was lodged there. He pulled off his VISOR and scrubbed away his tears with a trembling hand.

And then he felt Data’s arms wrap around him, strong and true, and for the first time since all of this horror had happened, Geordi felt _safe_. He felt like he could break and it would be okay. He felt like he could scream and that would be alright. He could collapse to the floor and know that he’d be caught.

Geordi clung onto his friend and sobbed into his chest.

“I am here,” Data said, holding him tightly, “and I will not let you suffer this alone.”

*~*~*~* The End *~*~*~*


End file.
